


The real kind of end

by mirkwood131



Series: The pitiful chronicles of an idiot [10]
Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Humor, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 06:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkwood131/pseuds/mirkwood131
Summary: Mission: "Ordinary entry about a day in my life with Jimin"Status: Completed. The end.





	The real kind of end

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy :)

So this is supposed to be the end for these pitiful little chronicles that I wish I could say are something I should feel proud about. I’m not, because I’m not proud of what I’ve done. But this is a metaphorical end, not for me or for you, but for these stories. End. It’s short, abrupt, only three letters, one vowel and two consonants, one word and it’s almost a cliché. The end. This is the end for something I assume. In fact, everything that I’m putting a point to, has ended long before, but in some way, my mind is ready only now to do so.

It’s been so long since I’ve written something in this, not because I forgot, but because I’ve reached a point when everything I scribbled down didn’t make sense and rereading everything, I was beginning to hate myself even more. So I’ve just stopped, until today when I just feel this urge to write down. For one last time, the way I feel. I suppose you deserve this, to find out how my shitty story ended, after all, right? This is the last thing I can do.

I’m standing in the airport, on a plastic, blue chair, with a coffee in one hand and in the other my phone. My back is starting to hurt from sitting for too long in one place. I glance up and I see Jimin coming towards me, with a big smile on his face.

“So, they said they are still looking for the luggage. Somewhere.” he laughs and sits right next to me. 

“You don’t seem affected.” I say and take another sip from the coffee.

“Well, I just had some clothes in it. We should leave.” he says and pulls me up.

My bones crack a little bit.

“That hurt.” I say.

“Let’s go, JungKook, aren’t you even bored of browsing your phone?” he asks.

“TaeHyung has a baby girl. He posted a picture of her.” I say and pushing the phone towards Jimin’s face. “It totally looks like him.”

“If I could see...” Jimin says, taking the mobile from my hand. “She’s adorable and doesn’t look like him. She’s a day old, Kook, really.” he says, smiling brightly.

“Sir! Sir! Sir!” a voice yells from behind us. “We’ve found your luggage.” the same voice says once we’ve stopped and turned around.

It was really his lime green suitcase with my weird stickers all over it.

“Are you actually tearing up?” Jimin asks after a while, when we’re out in the street.

“No. But I’m happy they’ve found it.”

“I thought you were thinking about the baby. She’s adorable.” Jimin says, taking my hand into his. “I want that too.”

“Calm down, Romeo.” I say, but we both laugh. “But I want a boy, though.”

“You think you can pick and choose?” he asks, giggling and massaging the palm of my hand. “A boy and girl, then.”

“You could barely cook for yourself when you were at university and now you think you can take care of someone else?”

“I take care of you, babe.” he says and stops to give me a kiss on the cheek.

It makes me smile and he smiles to when he begins to walk again.

The street is filled with people and until we finally reach the apartment we don’t talk, only hold hands and foolishly giggle or smirk from time to time. I feel like I’ve lost my desire to write, because sitting right now in front of the blank page, I have no ideas on how to fill it. Even though I’m happy and I have someone to love and take care of. The sole reason for these chronicles was my incorrigible stubbornness of hiding behind the finger with everything in my life. The only thing is that now this seems pointless, bland.

What am I supposed to say or share more? Maybe I should give a short rewind or something to fill you all up with what happened in the last 6 shitty years. Now I’m supposedly 25. Huh. I can’t say I feel younger or older than that, but not necessarily this age. I’m just 25 and writing in the well-hidden online journal thing that I somehow kept over the years. Like that small heart on the door that now it’s simply gone. A lot of things are simply gone.

I suppose right now I don’t feel that big, amazing and also horribly painful love that was eating me alive, making me unable to sleep at night, thinking about all the possibilities, everything. Maybe now I have other things to think about at night. Maybe I’m just boring right now, I’ve lost that craziness and wish for more, for grander. I always wished for that spectacular happy ending like I’m in a fairy tale and after the short story is over, nothing can go wrong from then on. I wished to be my kind of Cinderella. Maybe finally I’ve only managed to be some kind of Nero dressed in a princess. Maybe none of them.

This fucking writing stirs some memories in me, some sentiments that used to be so strong back then. My incapacity of actually choosing. Maybe if I chose from the beginning, but now it doesn’t matter.

Yes, I’m fine, I’m supposedly a decent person, the neighbor that says “hello” and sometimes opens the door for you or small talks with you because he might be feeling sorry. I’m supposedly just fine. I have a job, I have a home, I have a relationship, I have a boyfriend.

Do I still feel like screaming and crying and loving too much? No. Maybe, but only when I have too much to work or when I spend too much money, or when I fight with Jimin. But not as intense.

Sometimes I stay like this and wish I was once again 19 and so in love, with so many plans and jokes. I still love, but somehow it’s tamer, more stable, there, to resist and endure. It’s not as extraordinary. Nothing seems as extraordinary as it used to be. Everything appeared to be so life and death and the end of the world if it hadn’t happened.

Probably I’m not saying too much. Yes, I can still crack a bad joke and compare myself to a princess or Caligula, I’m still stupid and silly and all you want me to be.

I’m still me. Only bigger and somehow smaller. I’ve lost something, I’ve gained something else.

Jimin comes to kiss me on the cheek, tucking himself in the bed next to me. It’s warm and comforting.

“You’re writing something?” he asks.

“Some sort of journal. Used to do it when I was younger.” I say, and now I can barely focus on this.

I couldn’t focus from the beginning.

“Can I read, the earlier stuff if you have them?”

That’s a tricky question. It’s been 6 years and still, the remaining adolescent in me is still embarrassed, but mostly, I just want to just keep those thoughts to myself (and you), they feel too intimate and raw to just let him read them. I haven’t looked over them in these years, I can barely remember what I wrote but…

“I lost them. They were on my old computer.” I say.

I’m still a coward, you see. But I try only for small matters, I think.

“Oh. I think I’ll try to finish this book. I would have watched something but I’m too tired” he says and I only hum in response.

I still wish to be 19 or at least to have done things differently. I don’t regret where I am, but maybe I do regret some shit. My stupidity, fear of probably being rejected, maybe even my wavering feelings. I only love Jimin right now, but when I look back, at me at that age, maybe I don’t know how I’ve chosen to remain by his side, that day at the airport, waiting with him on the plastic chair. We didn’t have the courage to discuss the status of our relationship and I was almost certain I was going to say that I couldn’t do distance relationships. It was just on my tongue but then, somehow, I scrolled through my messages until I saw the one with Chanyeol.

The last message was sent by me. “K” it said. I still remember it, when I typed it and when I kept staring at it at night. And that freaking simple message just made me say something different to Jimin:

“I can do distance relationships. I want to be with you. Always.”

I don’t need to say that those were the shittiest 4 years ever, because of my decision or stubbornness or pride, but I knew I loved him and that I wanted to be with him so I waited. We later agreed that if we had actually done the deed, we would forgive, forget and all that shit. I actually don’t know if he did fuck someone else and I don’t want to know.

I’m divagating once again because this isn’t what I intended to tell you.

I intended to tell you that for a freaking month I’ve waited for Chanyeol to message me and tell me he would still break his rules for me. Because I would have broken mine, if I had had any and wouldn’t have said that in the airport. But he didn’t. He didn’t call or message me and I didn’t either.

Maybe, when I think about it, I think that I loved him too. Differently from Jimin and for shorter, maybe, but maybe with the same intensity. I loved him or just had a silly crush on someone older and more interesting than me, and I still don’t know if he loved me back because in these 6 years I didn’t get the courage to call him. Not even once. It’s funny, because I haven’t heard from him since then. I have no pictures with him, I don’t know his current number, I still have the old one, somewhere, I know nothing. It’s like he never existed and sometimes I doubt his existence, when I can feel and touch Jimin so vividly. He has always been somehow next to me. Maybe my love for Jimin still mixes with the love for a brother, a mother, a friend, a lover, but I love him. Without doubt. I chose him. He chose me. And it’s fine. I try not to wonder how it would have been the other way around, if I chose Chanyeol from the beginning. But there’s no point in imagining that, he didn’t choose me, heck, he hasn’t said a word in these 6 years.

“Are you actually tearing up? Are you PMS-ing or what, babe?” Jimin asks, coming closer to me.

“I love you and I want kids with you. A lot of kids.” I say out of the blue.

He puts his head on my chest and I deeply breath in. “I love you too. Is everything okay?” he asks, looking up at me.

“I was just thinking about…you know, the past and stuff.”

“Oh…you won’t guess who I saw the other day in London?” he says, slightly amused.

“I won’t.”

“Oh, come on, try a little bit.”

“Jimin…” I say, scratching his scalp.

“That’s nice…” he says, kissing me on the neck.

“I have the impression you didn’t see anyone.” I say.

“Chanyeol.”

“Oh.” I say and I sound cold, unaffected.

It doesn’t touch me as much as I thought it would.

“He didn’t have red hair, though. It was black. And he was walking holding a little girl’s hand. She seemed to be around four.” he says.

“Did he recognize you?” I ask.

“Didn’t even look at me. He was talking to her. They looked happy.” Jimin says. “And then I tried to imagine you holding a kid’s hand too. You’d make the most adorable image.” he says with a smile.

“We’d make. You’d just hold the other hand.” I say.

“You should really do your laundry, Kook. When I’m away for work. Really. It stinks.” he says, suddenly serious.

“You’re not my mother. And plus, I’m not a kid.”

“You sure do act like one.” he says but I shut his mouth with a kiss.

This is comfortable.

I suppose I’m at peace with everything and I suppose everything turned the way it was supposed to turn. I guess I sort of got my happy ending in the end. Not my sparking dress and fairy godmother, but pretty close to that. I’m happy, I can finally say it. I’m actually neutral, most of the time, but sometimes I’m happy and other times neutral to happy. I suppose I’m good like this.

And I really suppose this is the end.

The end?

_**The End.** _

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried making it a happy ending for everybody. I really don't know why I've uploaded this early, but yeah, I'm not particularly liking these last two chapters, especially the other one. I've kind of lost my interest for this fic, so that's why it might be laking. Just an edit: If I had listened to my guts and kind of said "fuck this shit, I'm doing what I want"  
> kind of thing, JungKook wouldn't have ended up with Jimin and maybe not even with Chanyeol, but honestly, I was just leaning towards the later(as a character). Yep.  
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading and being awesome. ❤


End file.
